A gravel-throated voice yanked my eyes back to the furred monstrosity.
“Someone’s been pissing in my Cheerios, and he’s right here.” The words roared from the werebear’s mouth, guttural and fierce. The withering heat of his gaze fell on me.
Scarlett groaned and nudged my ribs, as if she’d suspected it was my fault all along. Taken aback, I could only shrug as my mind flitted through my memories to see if there was a bear in any of them.
“If this is about that one time with the rug, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were related.”
The big guy chuckled; at least I think that’s what it was. He could have been swallowing a squirrel.
“You have no clue, do you?”
“Not usually,” Scarlett answered for me over my shoulder.
I just shook my head. Life was so much easier when the bad guys told me why they wanted to kill me rather than expecting me to guess. The onus of the monologue was on the bad guy. Doesn’t anyone read the damn handbook anymore?
“You should have let the half-breeds take the little dove there.” He snorted toward Scarlett.
One eyebrow raised, I cast a quick glance her way. “See? It’s not always me.” Curious as to why the Nephilim, the undead, and a lycanthrope wanted a piece of my cousin-all sexual innuendo aside-I chose the direct route. Though I have to admit, it was mostly because I couldn’t think of something witty to say. “Who are you and what do you want?” I really need to work on my social banter.
The vampires hissed in slithery tandem, their rhythmic gyrations becoming agitated, though they stayed put. It was weird seeing them following the lead of a were-critter, as the two factions rarely mingled, let alone got along.
As usual, something was going down and it wasn’t on me.
The bear rose to his full height and widened his grin. “You’re a brave mutt; I’ll give you that. The name’s Grawwl.” He ran the meaty slab of his tongue over his razored teeth and leered down at Scarlett. “All I want is the angel. You can run along home, little man.”
My ass weighed the cost of turning Scarlett over, but the negotiations stalled somewhere between my heart and my mouth. It wouldn’t be the first butt kicking I’d taken for her. I could only hope it wouldn’t be the last. “All I want is five minutes alone with Jessica Biel’s panties.” Cursed with a vivid imagination, it took a second to get back on track. “Much as I could use the peace and quiet, that’s not gonna happen.”
“That’s okay.” He clapped his huge paws together. “I don’t mind doing this the hard way.” He lifted his chin and loosed a throaty roar, which set my ears to ringing.
Minus the verbal theatrics, the vampires leapt to the attack, clearing the intervening twenty feet in an instant. Out of instinct, more than anything resembling rational thought, I darted off and put my gun to use.
Three bullets slammed into the chest of the lead vamp, blowing jagged black holes through him. Wisps of smoke steamed from his back while he shrieked and twitched, clawing at the wounds. The other two ducked past and went for Scarlett as she circled away.
Before I could fire on them, the shadows overhead thickened and I heard a whoof of breath to my side. That’s when Grumpy Bear plowed into me. While I’d expected him to take a shot at me as soon as I was distracted, I hadn’t factored in his speed.
A bright light flashed before my eyes and when I opened them, the world spun in a streaked blur around my head. There was a vague sense of weightlessness and motion, which came to a sudden end as the ground rushed up to meet me.
The bone-jarring impact snapped me back to my senses as tremors traveled the length of my extremities, my fingers and toes tingling. I rolled to get my bearings and was suddenly aware of the searing lines arcing across my upper back. Pain flooded over me, a whitewash of sensory overload. Had it not been for the lingering jelly-brain from my crash landing, I’d have probably passed out. As it was, it was hard to focus, though things could have been worse; he could have bitten me.
I’d seen a demon contract lycanthropy once. It’s something I’ll never forget.
His natural regeneration fought against the infection for days, the two waging a virulent war at the genetic level. There’s nothing like watching a body rot from the inside, pustulant boils erupting with rancid, tar-like blood and gooey red pus. To a symphony of gargled screams, the demon’s eyes had boiled from their sockets as his face blistered, then ruptured, oozing away from his skull. His cries lasted only a few moments after that. I still hear them in my sleep sometimes.
Not wanting to be that guy, I got to my feet, my knees quavering. My eyes refused to look the same direction. Through my right, I saw Scarlett flitting between the vampires, obsidian blurs trailing in the wake of her sword. She was holding her own. Lucky her.
Out of my left, I saw Grawwl, a toothy smirk on his muzzle as he wiggled his claws, stained in my blood. A few feet in front of him, silhouetted by the bear’s dark bulk, was the furious face of the vampire I’d shot.
Fangs came at me howling as I closed my right eye and raised my gun to meet him.
Or I would have, had it still been in my hand.
Undeterred by my imaginary show of force, the vamp barreled into me, sinking his sharpened fingers into the deep gouges of my back. Bright dots welled up in front of me as I dropped straight down to avoid him nuzzling my neck. I whipped my legs up underneath him. Caught off guard, my foot up his ass, he was flung past me, his momentum turned against him. There was a pissed off hiss as he rebounded off the concrete and skittered into the mounds of debris, but he was the least of my worries.
I got to my feet just as Grawwl dropped to all fours and rumbled forward, the knot of muscles at his back coiled. With nowhere to go to escape the charge, I summoned my energies and squared my shoulders. Grumpy just laughed, frothy white spittle emphasizing his apparent disdain for my magic. What little hope I had took a dump and trickled warm down my leg alongside my confidence.
It was times like this when I wished I’d taken my uncle up on his offer to become the Anti-Christ, but no, I had to be all self-righteous and give up my inheritance and the power that came with it. At least I’d get a good epitaph for my supposed integrity.
I looked to Scarlett and saw she’d taken out one of the vamps, but was still busy with the other one. Things didn’t look good; for me.
Right then, I caught a flash of movement out the corner of my eye. Grawwl hesitated as his gaze shifted toward the motion. His smirk morphed into a sneer.
Out of the shadows, between the buildings, stepped an old man. Wild gray hair flowed over the bronzed plates of his battered armor. He wielded a gilded broadsword with intricate rune work etched down the length of the blade and woven into the hilt and pommel. His face was like a worn leather hide, deep wrinkles streaked throughout, etched by time. Two fierce blue eyes glimmered from lined and sunken sockets, crow’s feet gone pterodactyl at the corners.
He faced Grawwl, his blade set before him. “You might want to watch your back,” he said over his shoulder, his voice thready.
Remembering the vamp, I drew my backup pistol and spun to see my dance partner sprinting toward me. I decided to lead this time and unloaded what was left in the clip into his sour puss. He screeched and howled as he dropped. His hands went to his face in a frantic attempt to tear the bullets out.
Not interested in him getting up again, I reloaded and held the barrel over his throat. In a sweeping motion from right to left, I fired fast, each bullet shredding a section of his neck. His screams turned to gurgles as the bullets tore through his vocal cords. Bubbling blackness squirted from the wounds as though I’d struck oil. His face went rigid as spasms shuddered across his body.